Kekra - Trap Queen Remix lyrics

[Couplet 1 : Kekra] Faut faire de la cailla**e, bébé bébé Si tu veux décla**er ses péta**es, bébé bébé Faut faire de la maille, bébé bébé Cuisine moi cette frappe si tu veux qu'on se taille, bébé bébé A Dubaï ou en Thaï', bébé bébé Ne la coupe pas, ne mets pas de bicar' bébé bébé Te déplace pas pour un gramme, bébé bébé Change de perruque, change de puce tous les lundis soir En attendant, je suis dans le hall, ça bra**e ça bra**e ça bra**e ça bra**e mais sans le crawl Visser plus de 30 schlags en sous-marin, f** le chrome Lâcher tout à 35 ans, sous-marin et prends le trom' Je mange le fou, m'empare de la reine et prends le trône Je dors que d'un œil comme Fetty Wap, repense au shlag que j'ai veski qui voulait dix oid' Qu'il nique sa race bébé bébé, lui et sa dégaine ta3 les poucaves, la volaille bébé bébé Chez nous, c'est la ha** bébé bébé J'suis à deux doigts de faire un dab, bébé bébé On a la dalle, bébé bébé J'ai foutu la cagoule pour moins que ce rap bébé bébé [Refrain] And I get high with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby [Couplet 2: Fetty Wap] I hit the strip with my trap queen cause all we know is bands I just might snatch up a 'Rari and buy my boo a Lamb' I might just snatch her a necklace, drop a couple on a ring She ain't wantin' for nothin' because I got her everything It's big ZooWap from the bando, remind me where I can't go Remy Boyz got the stamp, though Count up hella them bands though Boy how far can your bands go? Fetty Wap I'm livin' fifty thousand K how I stand though, if you checkin' for my pockets I'm like [Refrain] And I get high with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby [Pont] I'm like "hey, what's up, hello" Seen yo pretty a** soon as you came in the door I just wanna chill, got a sack for us to roll Married to the money, introduced her to my stove Showed her how to whip it, now she remixin' for low She my trap queen, let her hit the bando We be countin' up, watch how far them bands go We just set a goal, talkin' matchin' Lambos At 56 a gram, 5 a 100 grams though Man, I swear I love her how she work the damn pole Hit the strip club, we be letting bands go Everybody hating, we just call them fans though In love with the money, I ain't never lettin' go [Couplet 3: Fetty Wap] I be smokin' dope and you know Backwoods what I roll Remy Boyz, Fetty eating sh** up that's fasho I'll run in ya house, then I'll f** your ho Cause Remy Boyz or nothin', Re-Re-Remy Boyz or nothin' [Outro: Nitt Da Gritt (Fetty Wap)] (She my trap queen) Yeah, you hear my boy (She my trap queen) Soundin' like a zillion bucks on the track (She my trap queen) I got whatever on my boy, whatever (And I get high with my baby) Put your money where your mouth is Money on the wood make the game go good Money out of sight cause fights Put up or shut up, huh? Nitt Da Gritt, RGF Productions